Page 20 of Fairground (Whitewood Creek Farm #3)

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing outside my house in the cold and dark, shirtless, grilling steak for the Caesar salad I’ve planned for Rae.

Do I feel bad about immediately ditching her with my dad— the Kent Marshall, a man who could charm a fly if he tried and a legend in our small town?

Not even a little bit.

If I inherited my happiness, good looks, and positive attitude from anyone in my massive family, it’s him.

My dad used to be the talk of the town, he knew everyone, loved everyone, and was loved in return.

He still is, to a degree, though he’s slowed down a bit now that he’s in his mid-sixties.

His recent health issues haven’t helped either.

Thankfully, me and my siblings have stepped up to keep the family farmstead and distillery running strong while he gets to rest and keep us all laughing.

Besides, Rae could probably use a little pep talk from him. My dad may give his kids plenty of shit, but he’s always been great at pointing out the best in us, and I’m betting he’s doing that for Rae right now. Pointing out all the good parts of her that I see but she seems bent on hiding.

He’s sharp enough to sense that I like her—and trust me, I don’t bring just any woman home to sit and chat with my dad.

Usually, they go straight upstairs to my bedroom.

But Rae’s different. She’s skittish, and I like that about her.

Hell, I like her, though I get the feeling she still hasn’t warmed up to me.

I flip the steak, making sure it’s got a good sear on it while I think about whether she really doesn’t like pie.

I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like pie.

Maybe she’s just not into sweets, or maybe there's another reason behind the way her nose wrinkled after every bite she took when we were under the tent. I get the feeling there’s more behind that preference, but I didn’t want to push.

Plus, I knew Dad would be the perfect taste tester for this whole project and the look of relief that flooded her face when she realized she was off the hook confirmed that for me.

When the steak looks good, I plate it, glance at my shirt that’s still hanging over the edge of the deck fence, and decide to leave it.

Rae may never admit it, but I’ve caught her checking me out, and I like the way her gaze feels on me.

I like making her a little nervous, keeping her on her toes with what I'm going to show up wearing.

Which is why I've been wearing my most ragged T-shirts lately.

The more holes the better because those seem to draw her attention the most.

I head back inside the kitchen to slice up the steak and finish the meal.

From where I’m standing at the island, I can hear them at the dining room table just a few feet away laughing and talking like old friends.

My dad’s got a fork in every pie, taste-testing each one like it’s his life’s work while Rae takes notes in her tablet like a pro.

Between bites, he’s grilling her with questions about our town and her family while keeping the conversation rolling, and judging by the smile that’s stretched across her pretty face, she’s enjoying herself.

She likes him. Which is of no surprise to anyone, but it warms my heart to know she’s at ease here.

Dad plows through another forkful of the blueberry tin, the dish already half-gone. He’s probably eaten more than enough to decide if it’s a contender or not, but that’s just how he rolls. When he likes something, he dives in which is how I can tell he likes Rae too.

I round the counter, then the table, bypassing the nine other open chairs, and settle into the one that’s right next to Rae.

She stiffens without looking at me, shifting slightly in her seat, which only makes me grin.

She’s trying to act like she doesn’t notice me sitting absurdly close, way too close by normal people standards, but I like watching her squirm.

“I don’t know, son, Rae’s pretty damn qualified to be the next mayor of Whitewood Creek,” my dad chimes in, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smile. “I know she is.”

“I think you’ve got your work cut out for you if you're going to try to beat her.”

I smile at her and wink. “At least we know whoever wins, the town will be in good hands.”

“That it will be…” he mutters then dips the fork into the apple that he's already tested. I groan because now the two are all mixed up. Blueberry and apple swirls are running together in the pie tin.

“There’s a reason I gave you a different fork for each pie, pops.”

“Feels like I’d be creating extra dishes when I’m the only one who’s eating out of them.”

“I’ll do the dishes later.”

He waves me off. “Nah, I got it son.”

I roll my eyes despite knowing he enjoys the work to keep him busy as Rae smiles at both of us.

“Put another checkbox in the apple and blueberry,” he mumbles between a mouthful.

“Okay…” she trails off as he hums, inspecting the cherry now. She leans over to me to whisper, “He hasn’t had a negative thing to say about any of them. How are we going to eliminate one of the vendors?”

I grin. “I know. Don’t worry about logging his ratings.” I nudge the salad towards her with the steak and point. “Now eat.”

Her eyes narrow as she stares at me. “You knew he wouldn’t be able to eliminate one?”

“My dad has never met a pie he didn’t like.”

“That seems… a bit suggestive.”

“Maybe I meant it to be.”

"A suggestive comment about your dad?" she raises a brow with a smirk. "That feels very inappropriate."

I wink as I move to stand. "We’ve already established that I can be inappropriate at times. Ask any of my siblings, I'm the most like my dad and I love eating pie too."

Her skin flushes instantly as her mouth drops open.

Good.

“Dad, I’m going to go take a quick shower while you two work this out and Rae eats her dinner. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, and I expect you to have the list narrowed down, okay?”

He grumbles as he dips the fork into the cherry and waves me off. “Yeah, yeah.”

I bend down to whisper in Rae's ear before leaving. “This salad bowl better be licked clean when I get back."

She wets her lips without making eye contact and I watch as the soft skin on her neck flushes.

"Good girl," I murmur as she squirms in her chair, "and when you’re finished, I’m taking you to the creek.”

“The creek?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, the one that our town’s named after. It’s a rite of passage for you to see it.”

“I’ve seen it from a distance.”

“But you haven’t seen it up close. Not on Colt’s land. Molly’s working patrol tonight, and Colt’s tied up at the distillery for a few more hours. I want you to experience it for yourself.” With me.

“Oh… okay. That sounds good.”

I smile, relieved it’s not a no, then nudge the salad bowl toward her again. “Eat.”

A few minutes later, I’m upstairs in the shower, scrubbing off the dirt from my day working with the chicks and at the fairgrounds.

I’m not sure how tonight will unfold, and maybe it’s a mistake to get too hung up on Rae but I want her.

I like her. She’s my rival, after all, but at this point, I'm not questioning what I'm feeling and just rolling with it. I’m not thinking about fucking her of course, I just want a taste of her.

I think.

The hot water runs over me, the steam filling the bathroom as I grip my shaft, jerking myself with one hand, the other planted firmly against the shower wall.

My mind runs wild with thoughts of what she might be wearing under those thin joggers.

Something lacy and black, maybe to match her whole spooky vibe.

My pulse picks up at the image—hell, the thought of her body and how good I bet those soft curves would feel in my hands.

I wonder what it’d feel like to spank her thick ass, or maybe even give her a soft bite her.

She’s got so much to offer, so much to give. It’d be incredible to feel her on top of me, her body moving with mine while she grips my neck.

I jerk harder, the tension building in my sack as I picture her even more clearly.

It's been a while since I've fucked, about three months since I've made the time for it and cared enough to make the effort, and I don't want to do something embarrassing so I figure I'll get this one out of the way so that I can think more clearly.

I run my hand along the smooth underside of my shaft, feeling it swell in my grip until my balls tighten, and my spine tingles.

Finally, long, streams of cum shoot from my tip all over the shower floor with her name on my lips like a prayer.

I quickly rinse off, making sure there’s no mess left behind for Regan to find, then get dressed in a simple, long-sleeved cream colored shirt and sweatpants before heading back downstairs.

When I enter the living room, now thinking much less with my cock and more with my brain, I find my dad settled in his favorite recliner watching the nightly news. Rae’s seated beside him on the couch, still laughing and chatting easily.

It’s the most I’ve seen her smile since the night that I first met her. And that’s Kent Marshall for you—he has a way of making even the darkest clouds part and getting people to relax.

I stand there for a minute, just watching them, enjoying the way they've become best buds, then decide I’m feeling greedy with her attention and walk over to her.

“Hey,” she says, flashing a genuine smile and catching my eye. “You good?”

“Yeah. Let’s go,” I reply, taking her hand and guiding her toward the back door.

"O-okay. By Mr. Marshall!" she calls out but he's already asleep in his chair, smiling easily like he was waiting for me to come down before he could clock out of his shift.

We head out to the deck, and I point at the souped-up golf cart. “We’re taking this to the creek.”

She hops on and I take off through the night, the wind whipping around us as I drive and think about how I'm going to get her to open up to me tonight.